This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2011, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
When somebody, I don't know who — My mother-in-law? Dr. Evil? Satan? — came up with the brilliant idea of playing the toughest 18 public holes in the state of Utah, I thoughtlessly said, "Why not?" Why not? … Well, after doing exactly that over a three-day period, I've got 18 $#%@# -ing reasons why not.
Grab the sticks and a drum of extra-strength Excedrin, let's rock some golf.
Millsite, No. 7, in Ferron: This hole is a 213-yard par 3 with a narrow fairway, cliffs on the left, a box canyon around the green, and a giant spillway from a reservoir that rages down a wall to the right. It's like teeing off at the base of Niagara Falls. Bring a poncho, some rubbers, a squeegee, scuba gear, and maybe a raft, because you're going to get wet. You're also going to bogey the hole, which is precisely what I do. Hit my soggy tee shot 20 yards short of the green, chip up from there in a monsoon and two putts later, towel off and call it good. I'm 1 over after one.
Palisade, No. 4, in Sterling: Saying you hit off an elevated tee here is like saying hitting off the top of the Sears Tower is a little elevated. Standing over my 7-iron to a green 179 yards away, far down and away, I actually get dizzy. Vertigo, I believe, sets in, followed by altitude sickness and projectile vomiting. The green is on the other side of a scraggy canyon, which I clear, landing 50 feet from the pin. From there, I three-putt for a bogey 4. I'm 2 over.
Coral Canyon, No. 7, in Washington: Somewhere, out there, is the green on a 480-yard par 4 that seems like it cuts through the Arabian desert from the black tees. Actually, the Arabian desert is an oasis compared to this. I hit my drive 270 yards onto a sloping fairway, with sand, nothing but sand, on both sides. As I draw my club back for the approach, I swear a camel train from Sakakah traverses the hole on a trade route 30 yards in front of the green, which is the exact spot where my ball lands. A pitch and two putts on a two-tiered green give me another bogey. That's three for three … and counting. This is a laugh a minute.
Sand Hollow, No. 12, in Hurricane: A beautiful hole … until it hits you in the kneecap with a crowbar. If the 424 yards on this par 4, a strip of green caught hard between red desolation on the left and red death on the right, don't give pause, then the blast furnace winds chapping your lips, curing your tongue, and parching your eyeballs in 106-degree heat will. Good thing it's a dry heat, otherwise you might combust instantaneously before ever reaching the green. Hit my drive 275 yards down the left side, through the furnace wind, and into the red desolation. Once out there, I "find" my ball by quickly dropping another one on fairway's edge as my partners are distracted, over on the red-death side looking for their balls. The golf gods get even, though. Laser my second shot straight into a bunker. Chunk my next attempt, and finally muscle my Titleist onto the side of the green. Two putts later, card a dirty six, a double. I'm 5 over and hating life.
Valderra at the Ledges, No. 16, in St. George: I don't want to call this 600-yard par 5 hard. Instead, let's just say, from tee to green, it will tear off both your arms and beat you senseless with them as you cry like a baby. But it gets worse from there. It plays with your mind, too, because of the wildlife. First, there's 150 yards of carry off the tee, with a long bunker down the left side and a splitting fairway up yonder a ways. Once you get through that, a steep, tabletop green remains. I cover the territory in six nervous shots. Why the nerves? As we head out to 16, somebody asks head pro Tom Costello if there are, uh, you know, rattlesnakes on this course. … "Only when it's hot out," he says. I check the temperature gauge. Happily, it's only 105 degrees. I'm now 7 over par.
Sunbrook, No. 5, in St. George: Whoever designed this 441-yard par 4 can go straight to hell. That is all. Another double. Nine over after six holes.
Green Spring, No. 6, in Washington: This here's a bad mother, but it's also a fun one. I hit my drive pure, 280 yards down a fairway bordered by a canyon on the right side and OB stakes on the left. The second shot, in theory, at least, should fly over the large gorge to a green tucked snugly behind it. In practice, though, it gets pulled into unplayable junk on the left. I place my ball at a generous drop area some 70 yards to the right of the green, use a flop wedge to stick it close and one-putt for a fortuitous bogey 5. A bogey here is better than a weekend in a hot tub with Beyonce. I'm 10 over.
Riverbend, No. 11, in Riverton: Dealing with a 577-yard par 5 in which you have a flooding river to the left off the tee, and a second shot that requires a decision whether to go for the green over a swamp with more than 200 yards of carry or to play it safe and lay up is troubling enough. But to do it straight into twister-force winds that could at any moment drop Dorothy's house on your tenders is flat-out ridiculous. I lay up, take a six, and follow the Yellow-Brick Road straight to … Thanksgiving Point.
Thanksgiving Point, No. 11, in Lehi: Only a whack-job — sorry, Johnny — designs a hole like this … 678 yards from the tips, a drive over water that comes increasingly into play the more direct you hit it, reward puckering up and batting its eyes at you all along, and risk laughing at your pain because you're too dumb to resist temptation of the reward. The fairway undulates, with trouble every which way, the green is raised, protected by a bunker the size of Estonia, and the putting surface has the steep curves of Brooklyn Decker. I reel in a bogey, and consider myself the luckiest golfer alive. I'm plus 12, and halfway home.
Talon's Cove, No. 6, in Saratoga Springs: Against the glowing majesty of Utah Lake in the background — is that body of water still radioactive? — I hit a near-perfect tee shot with a 7-wood on this 262-yard par 3, only to watch in horror as the ball, for some unnatural, inexplicable reason, makes a sudden, sharp turn to the right. Dumped in deep doo-doo, I pitch to within eight feet, but two-putt, anyway, and earn a lousy 4. That puts me at 13 over.
South Mountain, No. 14, in Draper: This hole might as well be a Republican presidential candidate … it takes a severe turn to the right. Only 395 yards, you should be able to cut the corner over Sherwood frickin' Forest and have a simple pitch for birdie. Problem is, the fairway at that landing point is about as wide as the carpet in your living room, with nature's wonders all around. I hate nature's wonders. I play it honest, aiming straight out, and jack my drive too far, through the bend, and down a slope of no return. After dropping, I pull my next shot short and to the left. On account of a sour attitude and an increasingly bad frame of mind, I end up with a triple-bogey 7 and wish I were at the dentist getting a molar extracted. I'm 16 over and looking for Novocain.
Wingpointe, No. 3, at Salt Lake International: Wind-tunnel golf. It-sounded-like-a-freight-train golf. Are those planes flying by overhead or small marsupials blowing by? Did I mention it's a bit windy here? Jack Nicklaus said, "The older you get, the stronger the wind gets … and it's always in your face." Damn straight, Jack. At 451 yards, this par 4 has water to the left, tall grass to the right, and features a narrow-but-deep green guarded by a large bunker. I hit my drive way right, onto a parallel fairway, straight into a group of golfers who applaud my extraordinary shot with hearty enthusiasm, so much so that they tell me to do anatomically impossible things to myself. Double-bogey 6. I'm plus 18.
Valley View, No. 3, in Layton: Elevated tee, water on the left, sloping fairway in-between, trees and rough to the right, 437 yards to cover in four simple passes. It's easy like a Sunday morning. Hit a 285-yard drive up the middle, pull my second, chip and two-putt. Bogey 5s don't come any more routine.
Glen Eagle, No. 15, in Syracuse: They call this Paddies Lire. I call it the Best Hole of the Toughest 18 because … I par the sucker. It's 200 yards of carry over what looks like the marshes of the Chesapeake. A soft 7-wood lands 15 feet past the flag, from where I rap it twice with the flat blade and do a little river dance as it drops in the cup. This game is a breeze. I'm still 19 over.
Wolf Creek, No. 9, in Eden: A confession: I cheated on this hole, only because I hit five stunning shots across 579 of the most picturesque golf yards anywhere. It's like playing through meadows between the Eiger and the Jungfrau, where mountain goats graze. The only blemish comes when I lift up in front of water that protects the green, skipping my Slazenger across the pond like a rock. I get a par 5 … as far as you know.
Victory Ranch, No. 18, in Woodland: Standing on top of the world, this 520-yard par 4 is utterly unforgettable, but your chances of getting a par are completely forgettable. Trying to do so in 70-mile-per-hour windblasts is just stupid. From an elevated tee to a fairway on the other side of a gorge, a cliff to the left, junk to the right, Jordanelle and mountain peaks and the Provo River off in the distance. … Wow, what a place. A place to celebrate a bogey 5. I'm 20 over.
Soldier Hollow, No. 17, in Midway: Golf for masochists; a 610-yard par 5 on the side of a mountain. Any questions? Bogey 6.
Bonneville, No. 17, in Salt Lake City: Tee shot over a deep and wide swale on the famous par 3. Nearly get in a fight with an uptight gentleman, perturbed that three schmucks from The Tribune want to quickly jump in front of his group to simply put an end to our misery. Unsympathetic SOB. It starts to rain. Finish our tour of toughest holes in Utah, however, in fine and familiar fashion, the same way I started on the very first hole: soaking wet with a bogey. I'm in the clubhouse at 22 over par.
Hallelujah. I'm aliiiiiiiiiiive.
Pete Dye once said: "The ardent golfer would play Mount Everest if somebody put a flagstick on top of it."
I just did, because somebody did.
GORDON MONSON hosts "The Gordon Monson Show" weekdays from 2-6 p.m. on 97.5 FM/1280 AM The Zone. He can be reached at gmonson@sltrib.com. —
For the full version of Monson's 18-hole odyssey, go to http://bit.ly/pD1u8R